


Rut

by unfortunate17



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Miscommunication, Zayn needs to use his words, but happy ending I promise :D, it's really sad, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunate17/pseuds/unfortunate17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(And not the sexy kind either D:)</p><p>In which Liam is blindingly, trustingly in love and Zayn has a mountain of issues, secrets, and lies.<br/>________________________________</p><p>“Hey, no, Liam, look - I don’t want to leave you. But I just,” Zayn mutters softly into his ear but Liam barely hear him over the buzz in his body from having him that close. </p><p>“But you need to,” Liam finishes and the tears sort of slide down his face without his permission. But Zayn’s thumbs are on his face again and his eyes are sad and sorry, “Can you please tell me why?”</p><p>Zayn shakes his head, “This just isn’t what I want anymore.”<br/>_________________________________</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rut

**Author's Note:**

> was posted on tumblr in 13 little parts - here's the whole thing all at once :)

Liam stands there for a minute, blinking slowly as the world sort of shatters in around him and his heart drops into his stomach, “Are you - are you serious?”

Zayn makes a frustrated noise and slides off the bed to pace the room, “It’s not - it’s not -  _you,_ Liam. It’s me. I just don’t think this is what I want - or  _need._ ”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Liam mutters, “You make no sense.”

Zayn shrugs, shoulders drooping dejectedly and Liam feels something scoop in and hollow out all the neurons in his body so he’s dead and cold everywhere. 

“We  _just_ got married,” he says, “How could you just - “

“ _Liam_ , we’ve been married  _six months -_ what do you mean  _just?_ ”

Liam squeezes his eyes tightly, but the tears drip through his eyelashes anyway, staining his cheeks and when he opens his eyes Zayn’s looking at him, devastation under his skin. 

He smiles lightly, “Forgive me for thinking that I’d get longer with you.”

Zayn shrugs again, casually, and Liam wishes he could put his hands there and lean up and kiss him. “Sorry.”

He blinks, “ _Sorry?_ You want to leave after barely six months and you’re saying sorry.” 

But no matter how angry he sounds, his face must give something away because Zayn is suddenly near again, holding him close with arms around his shoulders. And Liam really can’t take this - not now. And probably not ever. He probably should never have tried in the first place because he was _Zayn_  and Liam was just Liam. 

“Hey, no, Liam, look - I don’t  _want_  to leave you. But I just,” Zayn mutters softly into his ear but Liam barely hear him over the buzz in his body from having him that close. 

“But you  _need_ to,” Liam finishes and the tears sort of slide down his face without his permission. But Zayn’s thumbs are on his face again and his eyes are sad and sorry, “Can you please tell me why?”

Zayn shakes his head, “This just isn’t what I want anymore.”

And Liam crumbles then because there’s nothing he could possibly say to that. So instead he fists a hand in his shirt and presses as close as possible. Close enough that he can nearly taste Zayn’s skin and the way it’s always a little more salty than sweet - just like he is. “Can you please stay tonight?”

It’s a little pathetic and Liam wants to curl into a ball but Zayn lets out a rush of air and his hands shake on Liam’s face, “Yeah - yeah of course.”

“Ok,” Liam whispers, crushing his hand tighter in Zayn’s shirt, “I really love you.” The words echo in the room for a long moment. 

And Zayn’s silence echoes back. 

…………….

When he wakes up, Liam’s expecting Zayn to have already left, leaving the bedside cold and his pillow vacant so Liam could curl up under the blanket and try to find his scent. But, instead, when Liam wakes up, Zayn is still curled tightly next to him, hand thrown carelessly over Liam’s stomach and Liam’s mouth at his neck. 

And in these moments, it’s easy - so easy in fact - to just forget that yesterday had ever happened and that they were just waking up on a normal Saturday morning after a long week. They’d probably spent Friday evening in front of the telly and Liam had probably fallen asleep, leaving Zayn to try and carry him back to bed, only to fail miserably. 

So many things are probable, but the sticky tear tracks on his face tell Liam a completely different story. 

He swallows back the lump in his throat and slides out of bed gingerly, careful not to wake Zayn. Because if Zayn was awake, he would probably pack and leave and Liam would be alone. 

Liam ends up rushing through his morning routine because every minute spent behind that closed bathroom door meant another minute where Zayn could potentially decide to slip out. It’s strange not to trust him anymore. 

Mostly, Liam remembers all those winter morning where he’d get up early only to make two cups of cocoa or tea and then slide back in bed to feed Zayn marshmallows as he pretended to still be asleep, only opening his mouth to chew. Something in him aches for it again. 

So, he sets out to do just that - one last time, because this might possibly be the last time that Zayn wants to see him, or speak to him, or hold him. 

When he goes back into the bedroom ten minutes later, Zayn is stirring lightly. (Liam distinctly remembers how Zayn had trouble sleeping alone ever since Liam had moved in). 

He lifts up the corner of the blanket and slides underneath, setting both cups and the bag of marshmallows on the vanity table Zayn had insisted on because he’d apparently badly needed it. 

Zayn shifts over into Liam’s warmth, “What time is it?”

Liam pushes closer, eyes tracing Zayn’s profile in the peek of morning sun, “Just about half-past eight. Still early.” His voice cracks, “You don’t have to get out of bed yet.”

At that, Zayn turns to look more clearly at him, blinking back the sleep in his eyes, “Liam I - “

But Liam forces his cheeks into a bright smile, “I made you cocoa. Just the way you like it too. Maybe you can stay for a little longer?” The smile is so fake that Zayn’s eyes get all misty and sad again, but Liam’s determined to painfully hold it in place, “I made it just for you, Zayn.”

His fumbles behind him to grab the bag of marshmallows, but his hands are shaking so hard that the bag rips at the wrong end and half the contents spill out over Zayn’s chest. He wipes furiously at his eyes, more than a little embarrassed, “Sorry. Sorry. I’m a fucking idiot.”

But Zayn’s hands are gentle when they ease him back, “Happens to the best of us - you’re not an idiot, Liam.” He’s quiet for a long moment before mustering up the courage to look up at Liam. He smiles, “Thank you, though.”

Liam nods jerkily, sniffling, “It’s nothing.” And it really is because with Zayn dangling this close, so in his reach, Liam can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do to pull him closer. 

Zayn pulls him tightly into his chest, arms wrapping cage-like around Liam’s shoulders like the night before. The marshmallows crush between them like the ventricles in Liam’s heart, “You’re too good to me.”

Liam shrugs, hoping Zayn couldn’t hear his erratic heartbeat, “Anything for you.”

And Zayn sighs heavily, leaning into to press a kiss to the juncture between his shoulder and neck, “Don’t deserve you.”

Liam knows he should be pulling away, but he only cowers closer. 

…………….

Zayn sticks around for lunch and Liam’s desperately trying to claw himself out the familiarity because Zayn doesn’t treat him any different. He still steals the hot water, refuses to make the bed - mussing it further as Liam goes to fix it, and wears Liam’s track jersey to the table. 

Liam’s heart burns at the sight of the material hanging loosely off of Zayn’s slender frame and he looks like he  _fits -_ like he belongs in this lovely flat filled with his and Liam’s things, laughing at his terrible jokes, and sharing his clothes and scent. Liam doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he’s gone. 

"Need help?" Zayn asks, smile digging into his cheeks, from where he’s perched on the kitchen counter.

Liam shakes his head, eye focused on finishing up the chicken, “I’ve got it.”

Zayn cocks his head. “You’re making all my favorite foods,” he points out and his voice is soft now. 

Liam looks up at him then, puts the well fried chicken onto a serving dish, and checks to make sure his hands are clean before he’s crowding Zayn against the cupboards. 

Zayn squirms under his grasp but Liam refuses to let go, “I’m bribing you. You can eat it if you decide to stay.” He lets out a bark of laughter but Zayn doesn’t laugh with him, so Liam’s left lost for a long moment. He pauses, “Were you ever happy? You know, with me?”

Zayn hands push him back firmly and his eyes try to hold Liam’s gaze, but Liam’s looking at the faded circles on the knees of Zayn’s jeans instead. “Liam,” he says, “Liam, how could you say that? I  _married_ you.”

Liam snorts lightly, “And look how well that turned out.”

At that, Zayn makes a frustrated sound, “You don’t understand.”

"I would - I’d try to at least - if you’d just tell me."

Zayn eyes him critically and he speaks very slowly, like his tongue is heavy in his mouth, “My parents,” he gestures between the two of them, “they hate this. They’ve always thought it was just going to be some sort of phase but then I ran off and got  _married_.”

"But I’ve always known that," Liam argues back, "they’ve always hated me and that’s - that’s ok. Really, it is. But they’ve never affected us before, so why start now, Zayn?"

Zayn shrugs casually, but Liam can see that there’s more to the truth than he’s letting on, “They don’t hate  _you,_  they hate that I’m  _with_  you. And this isn’t about them. It’s - it’s something different.”

Liam plays with the edge of the jersey Zayn has on, “Then what is it?” He clears his throat, “Because if it’s something I did, then I’m sorry. I really, really am.” His hand turns into a fist, “Can you just please not leave?”

Zayn pushes him back completely at those words and Liam feels hollow from the loss of contact, “To be completely honest, Liam, this just doesn’t cut it. I want more than this and I want - I  _need -“_

Liam feels the bones in his body shatter and his heart plummets to rest somewhere in his feet, “You said you didn’t care,” he whispers, hoarsely. “We talked about this and you  _promised_ that it didn’t matter to you.” _  
_

"I know, I know," Zayn says quickly, frantically, "but things change Liam."

Liam feels the tears well in his eyes, “Please. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll use you ok? Doniya offered too, didn’t she?  _Fuck, Zayn_.”

"Li," Zayn’s voice cracks, "don’t look at me like that, this is hard as it is ok?"

Liam shakes his head but when he opens his mouth, his vocal cords give out and he’s left silent and tired.

Zayn stuggles for words, “My father says - fuck, Li my  _mum_ says that it isn’t right. That two men can’t do something like that because babies need women. That’s just - they’re -“

Liam clutches at his shoulders, “We can try, can’t we? Because people have already done it, why can’t we?”

Zayn’s eyes are quiet and he swallows back his words and Liam eyes burn. 

 _Oh_ , he thinks, _that’s why_. 

………………………………

…………………………………………

At lunch time the two of them sit at awkward, opposite ends of the kitchen table and Zayn refuses to do much other than push his chicken around his plate without really taking a bite. 

Liam swallows back his heart and counts the seconds until he leaves. 

But in the end, Zayn doesn’t leave.

Liam, however, does. 

He packs a bag as Zayn watches him with sad eyes and resolves to disappear to the comfort of his sister’s flat. Ruth had always been a strong influence in his life, what with Nicola just a little bit too old to speak with properly. She’d been there when Liam had skinned his knees on his bike, been there when he used to get teased in school, and Liam really needs her to be there for him now that Zayn isn’t. 

"Where are you going?" Zayn asks quietly, leaning against the door jam. His voice has an edge of panic and Liam feels a rush of satisfaction because oh how the roles had reversed.

Liam pointedly ignores him, pushing another shirt into the duffle bag. 

"Li," Zayn steps closer, "where the fuck are you going?"

Liam shrugs apathetically and slings the strap of the bag over his shoulder, ” ‘m leaving you,” he mumbles. 

Zayn’s mouth opens soundlessly and Liam can see the way his jaw trembles before he’s clenching it together, grinding his teeth. 

"What?"

Liam goes to move past him, “I need to leave, Zayn. Need to talk to someone.”

Zayn reaches our sharply to grasp his bicep, spinning him firmly back into his direction, “Me,” he says, voice hard, “you can talk to me.”

Liam peels his fingers off him one by one, “We don’t even know how to talk to each other anymore.” 

"Liam," Zayn whispers and he sounds choked, broken, and Liam wants to curl into him under the covers and never face the world again. "Jaan, listen to me, yeah. I - " His hands reach up to bracket Liam’s face. 

Liam blinks back his tears, “No,” he mumbles childishly, “no more.”

Zayn falls quiet suddenly at that, hands falling away from Liam’s face. Liam steps closer at the loss of contact and folds his arms around Zayn’s waist, cheek resting against the hollow of his shoulder. 

"I love you so much," Liam admits hollowly, " ‘s why I have to go."

"Li -," Zayn begins to protest but Liam pinches his side to keep him quiet.

"We’re on two different wavelengths - we want completely different things," Liam tells him honestly, "I don’t know how to deal with that."

He slides away from Zayn and there’s an odd, twisted sense of accomplishment when Zayn’s fingers scraps his back in an effort to keep him close. 

Liam takes a deep breath and twists the ring off his left hand, slipping it into Zayn’s front pockets, “You’re free.”

But Zayn doesn’t look free when Liam glances up at him. Instead, he’s making these soft, uncontrollably broken noises and there’s a sheen of wetness pooling in his eyes. ”Fuck,” he says, “fucking hell no. Please, Liam, please. This isn’t fair.”

Liam averts his own gaze then and slips past Zayn before Zayn’s able to destroy him with his eyes. 

It’s only right before he pulls the door softly shut with a click, that he realizes that Zayn is crying. 

……………………………..

"He’s a bastard."

Liam stares down at his tea quietly, leaning into Ruth’s embrace on the couch. Ruth’s house always manages to calm him down - something about the normalcy of the place, of Ruth’s presence soothes him like no other. 

He sets his tea down and looks at Ruth. “I love him,” he tells her, hoarsely. “And I don’t think it’s ever gonna go away.”

Ruth makes a soft sound and drags him into her arms and Liam feels young and teenaged in her embrace. “It’s ok,” she says, “you’re going to be ok. You’ll see - everything’s going to be ok.”

"But what if it isn’t?" Liam asks, broken, eyes already misting at the thought of Zayn deciding to pack his bags forever. And he knows it’s a huge possibility, especially considering Liam threw together a bag and left in the afternoon. A pang of fear strikes through him, "I left him," Liam whispers, panicked, "Why did I leave him? Why on earth did I leave him? I should’ve stayed - should’ve told him how much I need him to stay. How much I love him."

Ruth runs a hand over his trembling back, sighing softly into his hair, “Because you needed to think. He’ll understand, Liam, he will.”

Liam feels the tears spill over, “But what if he doesn’t?”

Ruth shakes her head fiercely, but doesn’t say anything else, holding Liam close for long moments as he tries to stop the shaking in his hands and keep the wave of pain and panic at bay. 

The doorbell rings and Ruth sighs, but doesn’t go to answer the door. It rings again. And again. And again. 

She makes a frustrated sound, grumbling, “Hang on a minute, Liam. I can’t get a moment’s peace around here, I swear.”

Liam rests his head on the arm rest of the couch, feeling the cool air on his tear tracks as the breeze runs in from the open door. 

"Zayn." And that’s Ruth and she sounds shocked (and angry). 

"Please," and fuck that’s really Zayn isn’t it? "I know he’s here. Just give me a second. Let me talk to him, Ruth, please. Fuck, Ruth, please."

But he never comes in and when Liam peeks out from the living room, he finds that it’s because Ruth’s got the door held tightly with her leg and arm, keeping Zayn firmly out of her house and away from Liam. He’s never been more thankful for his sister.

Ruth catches his eyes warningly, “Liam. Go back inside, Liam. I can handle this, don’t worry. Go back inside, love.”

But then Zayn’s voice is loud and clear and desperate, “Liam? Li, babe listen to me, yeah. Come to talk to me, Jaan. Need you to talk to me, yeah.”

The jaan sends a lighting of fondness through Liam and he looks helplessly at Ruth, “Let him in, Ruth, come on.”

But Ruth shakes her head stoutly, “You’ve given him enough, yeah. Zayn you listening to this?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, “Liam’s given you enough - he bleeds and bleeds and bleeds and you -  _fucking hell,_ " (Liam can’t remember the last time gentle, sweet Ruth swore with than much venom), "and you don’t even have the decency to love him  _right,_ yeah. Fuck off, Zayn. For real this time.”

Zayn lets out a painful sob that Liam can hear even through the door, and Liam’s heart lurches, “Liam,  _please.”_ And Liam hates it when Zayn sounds like that - when Zayn’s in pain like that.

"Ruth," Liam mutters breathlessly, reaching forward to gentle Ruth off the door, "he’s crying. Let him in, Ruth. Don’t make him cry -  _fuck -_  I don’t want him to hurt.”

All the energy seems to leave Ruth at Liam’s words and she goes pliant, letting Liam move her from the door and Zayn bursts in suddenly, eyes wide and shattered, standing lost in the foyer. 

"Liam," he mutters and Liam reaches forward to wrap him in a hug, eyes screwed shut. 

"It’s ok," Liam tells him quietly, "Please stop crying - come on Zayn. It’s ok."

Zayn takes a deep, slow breath, but Liam can still see the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, “We need to talk.”

Liam nods carefully into his hair, watching as Ruth shakes her head sadly at him and goes to shut the front door, sliding out of the foyer to give them privacy. 

"Liam," Zayn says then, "you need to understand that I love you ok? I fucking love you so much, Jaan - but. We need. Fuck Liam, we need to get a divorce."

Liam closes his eyes and thinks that, yeah, maybe Ruth had the right idea about not letting him in. 

_————————————————-_

"Liam," Zayn whispers, "say something, Li."

Liam’s voice is very, very small, “You want a divorce?” His arms drop away from Zayn and he takes a step back. “Why do you want a divorce?”

Zayn looks pained, “It’s complicated. So complicated, Liam.”

Liam shakes his head and turns on his heels, making his way back to the living room, Zayn right behind him. Blessedly, it’s empty - Ruth had probably gone upstairs to give them some space. 

"Babe," Zayn reaches for his arm but Liam flinches away. And then he sort of wishes he hadn’t because Zayn’s face falls considerably and damn it all to hell, Liam hates to hurt that boy. 

He swallows back the heart in his throat, stepping back to take a seat on the couch, and pats the spot next to him. Zayn’s there in a flash, curling in beside him, bones slotting into place with Liam’s, heartbeat intermingling with love. “Zayn,” Liam mumbles quietly, hands rubbing Zayn’s shaking back soothingly, “Please tell me what’s happening.”

Zayn shakes his head mutely and presses a kiss to his collarbone.

Liam drops his hands away in frustration, “You  _can’t_  keep doing this, Zayn. You have to - you gotta tell me what’s happening, ok? You can’t keep beating around the bush, going in circles.”

Zayn smooths another kiss to his neck, pained eyes glancing up at Liam’s face, “You’re going to leave me.”

Liam feels a choked, hysterical laugh bubble up inside of him, “The last thing I’m going to do is leave you - been trying to keep you, actually.”

Zayn runs a hand through Liam’s hair, smile self-depricating, “You don’t want me.”

The admission hangs in the stunned air for a moment before Zayn speaks again. 

"It’s all really for the best, Liam, you’ll see."

Liam feels the bones in his body give up and he curls his head on Zayn’s shoulders, slumping in desperation, “Tell me what you want,” he mumbles, finally, “Please. Because I can do it for you. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just -” Liam shakes his head, eyes refilling with tears and he’s done a lot of crying lately hasn’t he? He’s not even going to pretend that it isn’t more than a little pathetic at this point. Zayn was probably getting frustrated with him, but really, Liam can’t help it. Not when it comes to Zayn. 

Zayn’s shushing him immediately, “Don’t you fucking dare say things like that.” He holds Liam close, “ _God._ Look at me, Li.” When Liam refuses, Zayn prompts him again, voice cracking, “Jaan, look at me.” Liam peeks up then at his words because he’s always been a sucker for Zayn’s affection. Craves it, basks in it, desires it - always has and always will. 

Zayn’s looking down at him with wet, mournful eyes and Liam feels the edges of his heart burn because Zayn hurting doesn’t give him any satisfaction. Liam’s never been a vengeful person and he’s not about to start with Zayn. 

"I love you," Zayn tells him quietly. 

Liam lets out a rush of air, closing his eyes because it seemed like Zayn was playing a game of ping pong with Liam’s heart and mind, “Then  _why,_ I just don’t understand. Why do you want a divorce? Why do you want to leave? Why - ” Liam pauses, unsteady, “Why’re you doing this to me?”

"It’s complicated," Zayn sighs again, repeating the frustrating words that Liam’s heart over and over again at this point. Zayn’s fingers rub through Liam’s hair and to his horror, Liam can feel himself relaxing into the touch, letting Zayn do as he pleases with him. 

"Is there someone else?" Liam asks him, wringing his hands helplessly because even though Zayn had married him, he was still just Liam and Zayn was still  _Zayn._

The hands in his hair stop and Zayn’s pulling him up, tipping his chin to nose up his neck, “Don’t be ridiculous.” he huffs, voice hitching, strained. His eyes dart to the edge of the room, teeth digging into his bottom lip. 

Liam feels the world drop out of his stomach, “But there  _was_ , wasn’t there?” 

Zayn doesn’t respond and if he does, Liam doesn’t hear him over the white noise in his head, the fuzz clouding his ears and eyes.

“ _Why?”_ Liam doesn’t mean to sound that heartbroken but he is - fuck it all to hell,  _he is,_ "When?  _Jesus_ , Zayn, why? I -  _fuck_  - I love you  _so much_ , Zayn.  _Why_?”

Zayn lets out a shuddering breath, “It was a long time ago,” he admits, ashamed, “before - before we got married yeah. It didn’t last long _,_ I promise.” He brings Liam to meet his eyes, wounded, tired, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Liam shakes his head, but doesn’t trust his voice, taking deep breaths because was this the man he tried so desperately to keep happy? 

"I - " Liam breaks off, laughing a little hysterically, "this is  _rich._ But fuck _,_  that doesn’t answer anything does it?” He eyes Zayn critically and Zayn’s looking up at him, breath uneven, twisting his fingers in Liam’s shirt,  ”Why’re you leaving me - shouldn’t that be my fucking decision if you  _love_  me so much?”

And there’s a niggling of a dangerous doubt in the back of his mind and Liam narrows his eyes at Zayn’s form, huddled against the couch, now gripping Liam’s hand. The scene from the kitchen flashes before his eyes and he remembers Zayn’s feeble excuses, “Zayn,” he says, very quietly, “What the fuck did you  _do,_  Zayn?”

Zayn opens his mouth and he’s shaking, shaking from the hands that are still gripping Liam’s up to the very tips of his spine. He wets his lips nervously, digging his free hand into Liam’s shirt, hauling him closer almost like a frantic last time, “Liam, she’s pregnant.”

…………………………………

 

“What?” Liam’s ears are ringing and there’s some far away emotion locked inside him, threatening to break and flood his veins with liquid poison.

Zayn’s holding him tightly now, breath coming in short, sporadic bursts. Liam shifts away from his warmth and Zayn’s hands follow him, grappling at his shoulders and cheeks.

The silence is loud and painful, pressing in on all sides and Liam’s trying to breathe, panicked sadness hooking into his skin.

“I -” Liam pauses, shaking his head, “When? How?  _Zayn._ ”

Zayn blinks back the tears, ashamed, and tries to shift closer, but Liam’s definitely pulling away now, sliding down from the couch to huddle on the floor. He probably looks pathetic.

“How long have you known?” he asks finally, eyes fixed on the plush carpet below him. He can’t bear to look up at Zayn right now.

“She’s eight months along,” Zayn whispers back, ignoring the question completely. He sounds frustrated, “Liam - “

“ _How long?”_

Zayn swallows, “Four months. But you gotta understand Liam - I wasn’t going to - ever.”

“You were planning on leaving two months after you married me?” Liam goes for furious and instead he gets achy and broken.

Zayn shakes his head so hard, Liam can hear his neck crack, “No - fuck no. I’d never. Liam, baba knows now. She told him last week and  _fuck_ Jaan you know how baba is, yeah. You know him - you -“

Liam rubs furiously at his eyes, interrupting, “Who is she?”

Zayn’s voice is very quiet, dropping his previous thought “Rebecca.”

Liam snorts at that, “Thought you left  _her_  for  _me_. Thought wrong I guess.”

“Li,” Zayn’s mutters, easing hands on his shoulders that Liam tries and fails to shrug off, “I love you.”

But Liam’s not listening to him - not really. He’s never been very good at math, but even he can’t mistake that Zayn was probably with her two months before they were married. When Zayn actually got down on one knee (to Liam’s terrible embarrassment) and held a ring out to him. When they picked wedding tuxes. When they -

He closes his eyes and tries to count his breathing against the onslaught of memories. It’s getting hard for him to distinguish what was real from what wasn’t.

Zayn runs a hand through his hair slowly and Liam flinches, pulling away. He sees Zayn’s hurt look for a split second before he’s fixing his eyes on the old television set. “I don’t want to leave,” Zayn mutters, “If you’ll have me that is - then - I can. I can fucking try, yeah. Do you want me?”

Liam shrugs, “I don’t know.”

He hears Zayn sigh behind him and then there’s a rustling of fabric before Zayn drops papers into his lap, followed closely by a pen. Upon closer inspection Liam can see - with an odd swoop in his stomach - that they’re divorce papers already signed and dated by Zayn.

Zayn leans down to place his chin on Liam’s head and they stare at the papers together, “You don’t have to make a decision now. But if you do - then you just gotta sign, yeah.” He hesitates and then there are hands rubbing up and down Liam’s arms, “Maybe - maybe you won’t sign and I can. We can talk to my baba?”

Liam feels an inappropriate laugh bubble in him when Zayn’s tears drop onto his neck. Zayn’s voice doesn’t give anything away however when he continues in that smooth tone Liam’s always liked in his ear at night, “Please tell me we can get past this.”

Liam sighs, pocketing the papers for later, “I don’t know,” he mutters again.

Zayn makes a frustrated sound, “Is it wrong for me to wish that maybe you’d never know? Like I could of just left and we’d both hurt for a while and then you’d move on and -” He sighs, toying with the thicker parts of LIam’s hair, “Whatever.”

Liam rests his head against Zayn’s knee, eyes slipping shut to block out the world, too big and harsh and real. Zayn hands are still soft and his voice is still pretty and maybe Liam’s just tired of running.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop.

………………………….

Liam comes to a decision by the following day after refusing to take in Ruth’s input or Zayn’s pleading looks as he was shoved out of the house. In fact, Liam refuses to speak to anyone - choosing instead to lock himself  up in Ruth’s guest bedroom as he paces back and forth, rubbing his temples in confusion. 

By morning, however, he’s made a definite decision and honestly, he feels as though it’s for the best. 

Zayn picks up on the very first ring and Liam’s heart clenches because Zayn always used to sleep with the phone under his pillow when Liam was away so he wouldn’t miss any calls. The thought of him still doing that is sad more than anything now. 

"Hello?"

Liam swallows, “Hi Zayn.”

There’s a long pause, “Li. I - How are you, babe?”

"I’m good," Liam rustles the divorce papers in his hands, "Listen. I - I think I’ve. Well." He hesitates and Zayn seizes the opportunity, voice already hysteric. 

"Doniya called today," Zayn says loudly, with false happiness, "It’s a girl Liam. It’s a girl."

Liam blinks back the tears in his eyes, “Is it now?”

"Yeah," Zayn’s voice is very quiet, "Yeah. I haven’t seen her yet or anything but mum tells me she’s beautiful."

Liam thinks back to Doniya’s beautiful eyes and high cheekbones, not unlike Zayn’s and thinks that yes, any baby of her’s would be beautiful beyond comparison.

"Jaan."

"Stop," Liam says firmly, but his voice wavers, "God. Please don’t say things like that. Zayn - we need to talk."

Zayn’s probably twisting his hands into his shirt the way he always does when he’s nervous. Zayn sighs loudly into the phone, “Do you want it to be us?”

"What?"

"Liam," Zayn says, sadly, "I’ve - I won’t be a coward again if you’ll have me. If you’ll have me, we can have kids, dogs, whatever you want."

Liam balls his fists because this wasn’t the talk he was expecting to have, but Zayn always has a way of fucking him over without even trying. “Zayn listen. It’s not just about that - you have a kid yeah. With Rebecca and you have to be there for her. That’s not - that’s  _your_ kid.”

Zayn makes a broken, ached sound into the receiver and Liam falls back onto his bed, tears pricking the corner of his eyes because the thought of Zayn hurting has always been too much for him to handle. 

"Zayn," Liam whispers. 

"Don’t," Zayn’s voice is strong, "Don’t. God. Not if you you’re going to - fuck. But I deserve this, I really fucking do. Just.  _Please.”_

Liam lets out a rush of air, “Okay. Fuck, okay.”

Zayn stops short, breathing heavily into the phone, “What do you mean.”

"Ok," Liam mumbles again, shattered, "Come home. I’ll come home too.  _Come home._ " He pauses, tears white hot against his cheeks, "Don’t cry, Zayn."

Zayn gasps into the phone, relief palpable “Jesus. Fuck.  _Liam._ I. Fuck I love you so much -  _thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”_

But Liam’s shushing him, _”_ One condition though.”

He can hear Zayn rummaging around in some sort of drawer, “ _Anything._ _Fuck. Anything at all, yeah.”_

 _  
_Liam takes a deep breath. “I want to talk to Rebecca,” he says, sounding a lot more confident that he currently feels.

Zayn freezes, “Liam. Why - God, why would you even want to?”

"No," Liam replies firmly, "I want to speak with her. Otherwise you can forget about me coming home."

And a part of Liam just wants to take those words back because what if Zayn changed his mind and decided that Liam didn’t really matter. What if he decided to back Rebecca? What if -

"No," Zayn sounds panicked, "Come home, babe. You can see her just as soon as you come home, okay."

"Okay," Liam deflates, "okay. See you soon."

Zayn’s voice cracks, “Love you.”

Liam cuts the line. 

________________________________

 

Liam stands outside his old door, afraid to lift up a fist and knock his own door. It’s a bit sad - but it’s also what Zayn does to him. At last, he rubs the bare skin of his fourth finger on his left hand, touches the divorce paper in his pockets and decides that, yeah, he’s really got nothing to lose has he?

He’s also a pathetic bastard who’d still do anything to stop the tears of the people he loves.

Zayn opens the door on the first knock and Liam’s stomach twists at the tear tracks and the way Zayn’s wearing his old sweatshirt.

"Hey," he clears his throat, makes a motion with his left hand, “Can I come in?"

Zayn nods mutely and pulls the door open wide as Liam steps into the foyer. It’s difficult to look at his house from this view. As an outsider rather than someone who lived and breathed and loved in here.

"Li - " Zayn mutters softly, pushing the door shut behind him. He makes a sudden motion reaching for Liam’s shoulders to pull him in.

And he would have succeeded too, if it weren’t for the way Liam nearly jerks out of his grip, shoulders hunching to protect his internal organs.

"No," he says lowly, “Not again."

But Zayn’s making these soft, broken noises and Liam doesn’t really know how to deal with that. “ _Liam.”_

Liam swallows and shakes his head, hard, “No.”

"But you said -"

"I said," Liam says loudly, shoving his hands in his pockets and curling his hands into fists, “That I’d come home. I didn’t say I’d forgive you." All the energy rushes out of him at the pain twisting Zayn’s face, “I need to understand first, ok. I need - _fuck.”_

There’s a moment of terrible silence.

Zayn sighs heavily. He turns away and Liam can see him wiping at his eyes, “She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.” He laughs bitterly, “Wants to talk to you too.”

Liam nods tiredly and makes his way to the bedroom, dropping his bag on the floor of the hallway. It’s seven o’clock in the evening and he wants to crawl in his bed and never come back out.

"Li," Zayn’s following him. Liam bites back nasty words.

"What?"

Liam turns from his seat on the bed and sees Zayn leaning against the doorjamb in sweats and a tanktop peeking out where Liam’s sweatshirt slides off his shoulders. He looks incredible. Liam closes his eyes.

"You sleeping in here?"

Liam snorts, mentally kicking himself. “Course not,” he says, trying to put conviction in his voice.

He’s not sure if Zayn buys it though because a strange expression passes over his face. “Right,” he replies curtly, “Well you can if you want. I’ll take the guest bedroom.” He pauses, wringing his hands and picking at the doorknob, “Baba’s coming tomorrow too.”

Liam’s hands freeze in their task of picking at his shoelaces, “What?”

"Baba," Zayn takes a step out of the room, voice lowering and cracking, “He’s coming. Wants to have a word with you."

Liam rubs at his face with both his hands, sardonic smile pulling at his mouth, “He want to talk to  _me_? He bloody hates me Zayn and you know it.”

Zayn shrugs and the movement would be careless if not for the way Liam can see the terror in his eyes, “Says he wants to make things clear between the two of us.”

Liam feels frustrated tears pricking his eyes because no matter what he did, Zayn always managed to one-up him on advantages and bargaining chips.

"Yeah whatever," he says tiredly falling back into the sheets. He pulls a pillow over his head and stoutly screws his eyes shut.

He hears the door slip shut after a few long moments and when he glances back up, Zayn is gone. Leaving him to deal with everything he’s done and said but Liam can’t even bring himself to hate him. More than anything, he’s afraid his anger won’t last and he’ll go back to Zayn with wide arms and an uncovered heart. And then, consequently, be his second chance.

He’s walking a fine line here and Liam knows it. He just doesn’t know how to fix it.

He wipes at his eyes, more than a little embarrassed at the tears and buries himself in the bed, resolving to sleep away the day rather than spend it in awkward conversation with Zayn.

The bed smells like Zayn’s cologne and aftershave. “Fuck you,” Liam mutters angrily into the dark, “Fuck you straight to hell.”

But really, he’s angry with himself.

___________________________________

The afternoon comes too quickly. 

After Liam had fallen into a fitful sleep because the sheets around him were too warm and smelled too much like Zayn to really get comfortable, the next thing he really remembers besides the strange opening and closing of the bedroom door (as if someone was trying to make sure he hadn’t left in the middle of the night) - was the alarm clock blaring at eight thirty.

Liam rolls over, smashes the alarm off, and nearly face plants into the floor. Usually Zayn’s there for him to lean against and without him the left side of the bed is so cold that it has Liam curling back onto his side, pain blooming in his chest. 

The door of the bedroom opens again and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Know you’re awake."

Liam shakes his head into the pillow, ” ‘m not. Don’t want to be awake.”

He can feel Zayn’s hesitation but in the end, Zayn pulls the covers up around him so the blankets drape around Liam’s shoulders snugly. He sighs as Zayn pulls a sloppy hand through his hair. Zayn’s voice is quiet, “Thanks for staying.”

Liam shrugs, melting back into the covers, hiding his face, “Nice to be back.” And he’s never told a more blatant lie to Zayn in his life before.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks sardonically. He clearly hasn’t fallen for it. "Well you better stick around." The words are said with conviction, but there’s an underlying sense of fragility that has Liam wanting to drag Zayn and push his face into that pretty back.

Zayn sighs at the lack of his response and pushes Liam’s hair off his forehead one last time before he’s disappearing from the room, footsteps heavy on the flooring.

Liam forces his body not to go after him. 

                                              o0o0o0o

"Stop that," Liam mutters fiercely and Zayn’s fingers pause their drumming on the kitchen table.

"Sorry," Zayn offers, " ‘m nervous, yeah."

"Why?" Liam asks spitefully in response, "It’s not like you’ve got anything to lose."

Zayn closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale and Liam sort of wishes he could keep his mouth shut. There’s hurt flickering on Zayn’s face and Liam bites his tongue to stop the explosion of  _Sorry, babe sorry, Zayn please._

"When’re they getting here again?" Liam asks, irritable. Zayn’s started up his drumming again. 

"Should be here in about ten minutes," he chews his bottom lip, "Liam?"

Liam goes to respond, but the door bell goes off and when Liam gets up to take a look in the peephole, Rebecca and Yasser are standing, talking in low, hushed voices. His stomach drops out and suddenly he doesn’t want to do this anymore. He wants to take Zayn’s hands and pull him back to bed - show him how much he forgives and loves him. 

"Liam?"

Liam shakes his head to calm his nerves. “Yeah?” he asks hoarsely. 

Zayn appears behind him in the form of a soothing hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Love you.”

Liam looks over his shoulder, terrified, “Love you too.”

He twists the door open. 

_________________________________

asser sits down heavily on the sofa, feet pushed up onto the coffee table, like he knows he owns Liam, Zayn, and everything they share. 

Rebecca on the other hand, is a different story. The first thing she does when she comes in is softly press her fingers into Liam’s wrists. And when he’d managed to tear his eyes away from her baby bump, she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek and a mumbled,  _I hope you and Zayn will be alright._

Liam swallows, nods, and gives her a tight look.  _I hope so too._

Her dark hair is a pretty contrast against her mocha skin and Liam can see the appeal that she’d probably had for Zayn. The past tense being amplified because Zayn’s backing away into the corner of their kitchen, tears in his eyes. 

Liam clears his throat and two set of eyes meet his - Yasser’s fierce and Rebecca’s fearful. “I -” he points in the general direction of the kitchen, “I’ll be right back. Please take a seat.”

He doesn’t wait to see if Rebecca actually sits down, already moving quickly behind the kitchen wall and towards Zayn who looks like he’s having a panic attack. 

"Hey," Liam mutters softly, catching Zayn in his arms and rubbing his back soothingly, "Hey, it’s ok."

Zayn shakes his head and Liam can tell his struggling to keep the tears at bay. It feels like a slow bleeding knife wound in his stomach. “No, Li, it’s not, yeah. It’s not going to be ok.” 

Liam lets out a rush of air, “We’ll talk to them ok. I - I just need to talk to them. And then you.” He sweeps Zayn’s hair off his forehead, pressing a kiss to the tips of his cheekbones, “Everything’s going to be ok.”

"It’s not going to be ok if you haven’t forgiven me," Zayn replies. 

Liam feels hands at the small of his back. He tips forward, cowering into Zayn’s body, “Yeah it can.” Liam smiles painfully into Zayn’s hair, “You don’t need me to be happy. You - calm down Zayn. I want you to calm down and come out there with me, ok?”

Zayn deflates, nodding quietly and Liam smiles up at him, eyes crinkling as he threads their fingers together and drags him from the safety of the kitchen wall. 

Rebecca makes a soft noise when she sees their intertwined hands, “See,” she whips around to look at Yasser, “they’re fine. Can we leave now?”

Liam blinks in shock but when he peeks back at Zayn, Zayn’s got a hard look in his eyes, gaze firmly fixed on his father’s face. 

Yasser snorts, “They are not fine. My son got you pregnant - and I don’t know where you’re from Rebecca, but where I come from, that sort of thing doesn’t happen outside wedlock.”

"It was a mistake," Rebecca mutters back, hiding into her hair, "Ask Zayn if you want."

Zayn gives her a long look, squeezes Liam’s hand, “Yeah,” he says honestly, “Yeah it was.”

Yasser leans forward in his seat, “I don’t bloody care if it was a mistake.”

Zayn raises a smooth eyebrow, “I know you don’t.”

Liam makes an aborted noise and that seems to trigger Yasser into remembering his presence. The man smiles widely up at him and Liam can see the resemblance in the strong jaw, the caramel skin, but Zayn has his mother’s fine bones and lovely eyes. 

They’re nothing alike.

"What do you think, Liam?" Yasser asks him quietly. The question is almost rhetorical, "Don’t you think my son should take responsibility for this? Don’t you think Rebecca shouldn’t have to do this on her own?" He slams a fist into the coffee table with a loud crack, making everybody in the room flinch sharply, "Don’t you think I should be able to show my face in our mosque again?"

Liam stays silent. 

Yasser’s voice increases another notch, “ _Well, don’t you_?”

Dead silence. 

“ _Answer me.”_

Zayn answers him instead. “Don’t,” he mutters.

Rebecca shakes her head, tears filling in her eyes, “Bathroom,” she mumbles, rapidly walking towards the kitchen. 

Yasser watches her go silently before turning back to Zayn, eyebrows raised as an indication to continue. So maybe there was a resemblance. 

"Don’t," Zayn takes a deep breath, "Don’t raise your voice at Liam."

Yasser huffs out a breath of laughter, “Because you treat him so well.”

Zayn nearly lunges but Liam grips both his shoulders, hauling him back. He clears his throat, “Well. That doesn’t matter now, does it? Because it really doesn’t anymore.”

Zayn’s muttering a litany of his name, reverent, Rebecca’s sobbing in the kitchen and Yasser looks old, and tired, worn. 

"Me and Zayn are getting divorced."

_______________________

 

One thing Liam learns from it all is that he’s a survivor. Their divorce is clean and cut despite the watery eyes Zayn has when he pulls together his bags. Neither of them cry after that and Zayn doesn’t beg anymore. 

Yasser claps him on the shoulders before he leaves that evening and his eyes are mournful, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Liam. But you understand where I’m coming from, don’t you.”

Liam tells him he does, but he’s angry anyway.

Yasser smiles bitterly, “I guess I can live with that.” He turns to Rebecca and Zayn, “You two,” he says sternly, “I expect both of you to be adults. Zayn, you  _will_ look after this baby - that baby is your responsibility and I will not have you neglecting it. Understand?”

Zayn’s face is hiding in Liam’s neck and Liam can feel his stuttered breathing. “Understood,” he whispers softly. 

Yasser gives him another nod of acknowledgment before he leaves their home, Rebecca scampering behind him, hand pressed against her stomach. 

She turns at the last second, “I - I want you two to be happy.”

Liam nods at her, smiling bravely. He glances at Zayn’s clenched fists, “Yeah,” he says slowly, understanding, “We will be.”

She smiles widely in response, “See you around, Liam. Zayn. Nice meeting you.”

Zayn snuffs, still hiding in Liam’s neck, “See you.”

And she’s out before he can say goodbye. 

Either way, despite it originally being Zayn’s apartment, he makes no effort to move Liam out of it. Instead, when he does leave, Zayn barely ends up taking anything. Just most of his clothes and that beautiful antique clock on the kitchen wall that belonged to his grandfather. 

Except, he unintentionally sets fire to everything he leaves behind, burning Liam down and settling ashes into his life. Ashes that clog his pores, empty out Zayn’s laughter, and leave Liam with a desperate need to fill the empty spaces in his home, heart, and body. Happiness, Liam realizes, is a fickle, difficult thing. 

But Liam is a survivor. He learns that, no, he doesn’t have to make his life revolve around Zayn. He learns that sometimes, it’s ok to be selfish. It’s ok to live for yourself. 

It’s not to say that’s easy though - because it isn’t. He spends two weeks frantically picking up the blood stained shards of his heart from the carpeted flooring with nothing but his battered, bruised body. Spends another week washing Zayn’s scent out of his bed, jumpers, and track shirts. Disposes of all the shampoos and soaps Zayn’s left behind. 

And finally,  _finally_  - after nearly a month of bleak existance - he stands there, in his home - in  _his_ home and takes a deep inhale, releasing the air slowly and carefully. 

He can finally breathe. 

_________________________

Liam meets Zayn again three months after everything at his local grocery store while picking up eggs at eight in the morning on a Saturday. Because, yes, his life is that sad sometimes. Zayn leaving had sort of ended up being the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him. Either way, it was surreal to say that he had an ex-husband at twenty-five and that they’d only been properly married for six months. 

His mum had cried when Liam had finally found the nerves to call her. 

He picks up a carton to check for cracked eggs and he has the urge to chuck things at the wall. Because even now, Liam finds himself at the stove, making a curry that’s just a bit too spicy for his tastes, putting masala into his chicken, or picking up Zayn’s favorite brand of eggs. Last week, he’d walked nearly a mile to pick up halal meat before realizing that, wait, he didn’t actually need it. 

"Liam?"

And now Liam really wants to chuck things at the wall. 

He squares his shoulders before spinning around because this was bound to happen one day or the other. 

He forces a smile, “Zayn.”

Zayn looks good. Really good in fact. He’s clean shaven, bright-eyed, and smiling as a baby wrapped in a pink blanket squirms actively in his arms. Liam can’t help the irrational flare of happiness when he sees the missing wedding ring on his finger. So he and Rebecca had decided not to get married after all. 

Zayn shuffles his feet and then lurches his arms out, “Um. Do you want to hold her?”

Liam wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, nodding so hard his head hurts,  ”Yeah, Yeah that’d be great.”

_"Liam, right?"_

_Liam flushes and nearly drops the apples in his hands because holy fuck that boy is gorgeous. And he knows Liam’s name. “Yeah,” he breathes, “And you’re - Zayn? Classical Studies TA?”_

_Zayn’s smile takes up his whole face and for one his snapback isn’t pulled low on his head. Instead, Liam can see his hair, ink black and soft looking._ _"Yeah, that’d be me. Nice to see you. Listen - "_

_He’s interrupted by a high pitched scream and both of them look to see a little girl on the floor of the grocery store, gripping her knee._

_Zayn groans, “Saf. Hold still for a minute, yeah. I’m busy.” But he walks over to scoop the girl up anyway and she coos into his neck._

_Liam smiles inadvertently, “Sister?”  
_

_Zayn scowls, “Devil. Only three and she bloody knows how to get out of anything.”_

_Liam nods, at a loss for words, as Zayn shushes the girl._

_Zayn catches him watching and Liam’s face heats sharply. He clears his throat, “Do you - maybe want to hold her?”_

_Liam hesitates, “Yeah - Yeah sure.”_

The baby is soft in his arms. Soft and breakable and asleep. She’s got Zayn’s hair but Rebecca’s skin and features. His chest constricts and there are embarrassing tears pricking his eyes. 

"She’s - she’s lovely." Liam swallows, "What’s her name?"

Zayn rubs a hand over her head and looks up at Liam with huge eyes, “Aisha. My little sisters picked it.”

Something twists in Liam’s stomach and they’re both quiet for a long time, eggs forgotten in the corner. The world narrows to just the two of them. Zayn clears his throat.

_"Dinner," Zayn breathes heavily and Liam watches him with some amount of amusement over the nervous fluttering in his stomach, "Today? Tomorrow? Next week?"_

_He glances up at Liam and straightens hastily, “Lunch?”_

_Liam bursts into laughter and Zayn scowls at him, mouth pulling up slightly, “Laugh it up. I ran across the entire bloody court yard for you, yeah.”_

_Liam chuckles, “Yeah, ok.”_

_"Yeah, ok…what?" Zayn wrings his hands, "Is this my cue to leave?"_

_Liam reaches forward and takes one of Zayn’s hands, “Yeah, ok, let’s do dinner tonight.”_

_Zayn beams, “You don’t know how ridiculously pleased with myself I am right now.”_

_Liam snorts, shuffling closer to him, “Keep up that attitude and I’ll stand you up.”_

_Zayn hesitates for a moment and Liam can literally see him ‘fuck all’ and reach forward to cup his jaw. His eyes flicker between his, “You’d never stand me up. Nobody does.” He smiles and leans forward to slot their mouths together._

"Dinner," Zayn gets out, strangled and choked, "I mean - "

Liam takes a deep breath and shushes the waking infant in his arms, “It’s a date.”

______________________

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY :D


End file.
